Operation Influenza: Denial and Pastina (McRoll in the REAL World)
by ilna
Summary: Sequel to Operation Influenza. Steve insists he's not sick.


**Notes:** McRollers, thanks for the amazing feedback on OI and all the REAL World stories! It is truly, truly appreciated more than I can say.

To Esther – thanks, as always, for the edits. Glad I got to watch you read this one and hear where you chuckled. And *very* glad you didn't just chuckle at the wore/worn typo :-)

To Mari and Sammy – you both made this one a hundred times better with your awesome suggestions for lines and exchanges (antimicrobial chocolate! Since when! Crusty bread!) You're still the best! Can't tell you how much I'm enjoying the ride. McRoller-coastering on!

* * *

_Operation Influenza: Denial and Pastina (A McRoll in the REAL World Story)_

Steve and Catherine walked into the office to find Danny already there. Leaning against the smart table, Danny folded his arms and looked Steve up and down as the two approached and stopped in front of him.

"I'm not sick," Steve said before Danny could speak.

"_How_ are you not sick?" Danny asked, incredulous, then his attention shifted to Catherine. "Welcome back, by the way, Cath. Good to see you not so . . . glassy-eyed and feverish."

"Thanks, Danny," she said. "And thank you for sending Grace's card. It was so sweet."

"She got your thank you texts. All three of them," Danny said with a smile.

Steve chuckled, looking at Catherine.

"What?" she asked. "It was a really nice homemade card."

He held up his hands as he laughed and said, "I didn't say it wasn't."

"Between that and Nonna's call, I am fully on the mend," Catherine told Danny.

Steve cleared his throat loudly.

"And getting plenty of rest thanks to my own personal nursemaid and guard, here."

He nodded his agreement.

Danny smiled genuinely and said, "That's great to hear. Now, back to my original question," he continued, turning back to Steve. "I repeat: how are you not sick?"

"I told you, I never get sick."

Danny scoffed. " 'Never get sick.' Right. I _distinctly _remember once hauling your ass to the bathroom so Catherine could get your fever down in the shower."

"You didn't 'haul' me into the . . ." Steve started defensively. He shrugged. "And besides, that was different. That was the chicken pox," he finished quietly.

"Yes. The chicken pox. You were sick with the chicken pox. You get sick," Danny said, enunciating each word.

"Well, I'm not sick now. All right?"

"Cath?" Danny asked, looking at her.

She shrugged and said, "If he is, he's hiding it really well."

"I don't get sick," Steve said. He held out his arms. "Great immune system." He smirked and glanced at Catherine conspiratorially. "Unless chocolate sauce is antimicrobial . . ."

She smiled slyly in response.

Danny raised his hands and said, "I don't want to hear this. What have I told you two about over-sharing?"

"Who's over-sharing?" Kono asked as she and Chin walked up to the group.

"These two," Danny said. "Please, I beg you, don't ask."

Kono smiled at Catherine and said, "Hey, Cath, glad you're feeling better."

"I am. Much better. Thank you. Still wouldn't get too close, though. We're probably both contagious," she said with a nod toward Steve.

"I'm not sick," he insisted.

"You're not symptomatic, Steve. Doesn't mean you're not sick. You could still be contagious. We had this discussion on the way over."

"He doesn't listen to anyone, Catherine," Danny said. "You know that."

"I . . ." Steve started but groaned. "Forget it."

"We'll try not to touch too many shared surfaces," Catherine said.

Steve sighed.

Danny nodded at her. "Thank you." He looked at Steve. "Now, would you care to explain to me why I received a scolding from my grandmother as well as a shipment of Ronzoni pastina yesterday?"

Steve shrugged. "Doesn't seem like it needs much explanation."

"We got a shipment, too," Catherine said.

"But no scolding," Steve added with a smirk.

"What's this she sent?" Chin asked.

"Pastina. It's a type of pasta," Catherine explained. "I looked it up. It really means 'little pasta' but it's come to mean the little stars it's shaped like. Nonna sent fifteen boxes of the Ronzoni brand. _And_ she sent a recipe," she added with an excited smile. "Apparently pastina with chicken broth is the best comfort food when you're sick."

Danny motioned toward Steve. "Which brings us back to . . ."

"I'm not sick."

* * *

After lunch, Steve and Danny were on their way back from HPD in the Camaro when Steve sneezed, just managing to cover his nose and mouth with his elbow. Danny straightened in the passenger seat and looked at him.

"It was just a sneeze, Danny," Steve said.

"That's how it starts."

Steve rolled his eyes. "That's not how it . . . you know, I'm staring to get the feeling that you're hoping I get sick."

Danny balked. "What? What are you talking about? I'm not–"

"I think," Steve interrupted, "that you actually _want _me to get sick."

"It's not that I _want _you to get sick . . ."

"No?"

"No, of course not. It's just, you keep saying you never get sick . . ."

"Because I don't," Steve said as he pulled into the parking lot at Iolani Palace.

"But that's not true," Danny said, waving a finger. He gestured with his hands. "Everyone gets sick, my friend. Everyone. And I have seen you sick."

Steve parked the car. "Danny–"

"You know, Nonna would say don't bring on the mal occhio by tempting fate with 'I never get sick.' "

"Seriously? The evil eye? You don't buy into stuff like that."

"Maybe not, but I've got a bottle of Purell I'm gonna use on the steering wheel and gear shift, just so you know. I may just power-wash the whole interior. I can't believe you still had to drive, even when you're–"

"I'm not–"

Danny grabbed the handle, opening the passenger side door. "I know, I know, you're not sick."

* * *

That afternoon, Catherine, Danny, Chin, and Kono were standing outside Steve's office while he sat at his desk working.

"He's really not sick," Chin said, arms folded.

"Guess not," Kono agreed.

Danny sighed and said, "With my luck it bypassed him and jumped right to me."

"He really doesn't get sick very often," Catherine admitted. "In all the years I've known him. And he admits to it even less. He might have just gotten lucky this time, because there's no way he wasn't exposed . . ."

"Hey, hey, hey, I warned you about that," Danny protested, pointing at her.

Catherine smirked.

Steve, having clearly known they were all staring at him, finally looked up with an irritated expression.

"I know you all have things to do!" he called.

Chuckling, the four turned to disperse. Catherine glanced back in time to see Steve swallow and rub his throat with a slight wince.

* * *

When Catherine and Steve entered the house after work, they were greeted by an excited Cammie.

Catherine said, "I'll let her out."

"No, I'll do it," Steve said and cleared his throat.

Catherine raised her eyebrows but he didn't acknowledge her unasked question.

Instead he handed her his badge and weapon, then turned to the dog and said, "Come on, Cammie, let's go out."

Cammie followed him to the backdoor as Catherine watched and shook her head.

Fifteen minutes later Catherine came down the stairs, having changed her clothes, to find Steve with his head lying on the back of the couch and Cammie sitting at his feet. He straightened and sat up as Catherine reached the bottom of the stairs.

"That was quick," she said. "She usually likes to stay out longer than that."

"Yeah, she uh . . . she must have worn herself out with Esther earlier," he said.

Catherine paused, regarding him. "Huh. Strange. Esther always texts how the day went. She didn't mention anything about an extra-long playtime."

"Hmm," he said, his tone non-committal.

She paused again, then smiled and stepped toward him. She put her hands on his cheeks and bent to kiss his forehead.

"Well, thank you for taking her out," she said.

"Of course," he said and shifted so she could sit beside him.

"It really is pretty amazing how you haven't gotten sick," she observed.

Steve's smile was smug as he looked at her and said, "Guess my immune system is better than yours."

"Not everything is a competition, Steve."

"Since when?"

She rolled her eyes.

He shrugged and said, "No real competition here. Clearly my immune system is superior."

Catherine shook her head and muttered, "If you weren't sick . . ."

"I'm not sick."

"You _are_ sick, Steve," she said in exasperation. "I know your throat's bothering you and you felt a little warm just now when I kissed your forehead."

"Are you saying you had ulterior motives for that kiss, Lieutenant?

Catherine smiled slyly despite her frustration with him. "I always have motives when I kiss you, Commander. But seriously, Steve," she said with a sigh. "There's no way Cammie was tired. Look at her," she said, motioning at Cammie. She turned back to Steve. "_You're _tired."

"I'm fine."

"Uh huh. And where have I heard that before?" she asked. "I think I said it several times a few days ago, and you still thought I needed to go to the hospital."

"You did need to go to the hospital," he countered.

"Same rules apply, sailor. If your fever goes any higher or if you start referring to events from a decade ago, we're going to the ER."

Steve sighed and said, "Catherine, we know what this is. I caught it from you."

She folded her arms. "So you _are_ sick."

When he didn't respond immediately, she raised her eyebrows.

"I . . ." he started. "I didn't say that."

She gave him an incredulous look. "Really? Still?" She rolled her eyes and chuckled in resignation. "Oh, you stubborn SEAL. Was_ I _this bad?"

He paused, then said, "I don't think there's a good answer to that question."

She rubbed her head and sighed. "Okay, well, I'm gonna see what we've got for dinner."

"I'm not really that hungry," he admitted.

She raised her eyebrows and said, "Really?"

"It's not because I'm sick, I just . . . I'm not that hungry."

"Well, you need to eat something. How about some soup?"

The corner of his mouth quirked up in a knowing smile. "You just want to make Nonna's recipe, don't you?"

Catherine couldn't contain her grin. "Yeah, I really do."

"Well, I won't say no to a bowl of soup. It's Nonna's recipe, so it must be good."

"Okay, you relax here," she said, putting a hand on his leg and squeezing it lightly. "I'll get that going."

She stood and headed toward the kitchen.

"This doesn't mean I'm sick," he called after her. "It's just . . . polite to try Nonna's recipe since she went to the trouble of sending it with the pasta."

"Okay, Commander," she said in an indulgent tone as she disappeared into the kitchen.

* * *

Catherine came out of the kitchen fifteen minutes later and stopped in mid-stride. Steve had his head on the back of the couch again with his eyes closed. This time both his hands were pressed against his temples. Cammie sat close to him with her paw on his thigh and looked over at Catherine.

"Aha!" she said.

He cracked his eyes open to look at her but didn't move otherwise.

"I knew it. You _do _feel worse than you've been letting on," she continued, shaking her head. "Steve, you need to be in bed," she said, concern in her voice.

"Catherine, come on . . . I'm fine," he said as he sat up slowly.

"No, you're not. Cut the denials. I've been waiting for my turn to order you into bed, Commander."

He gave her a teasing smile, though his eyes were tired as he said, "You can order me into bed any time, Lieutenant. I thought that was understood."

She smiled and said, "While I'm glad to hear _that_, I'm serious, Steve."

"Catherine . . ."

"Steve, we just went through this and if you recall, I admitted you were right . . . eventually, and stayed in bed to rest."

"I'm fine," he repeated.

"I think Cammie has shown she's a better judge of that than either of us," she said and looked fondly at the dog at Steve's feet. "She's been at your side since we got home, just like she stayed by mine."

"Catherine, you were a lot worse off than I am."

She nodded. "Acknowledged. And you need to take it easy so you don't get any worse."

Steve sighed heavily.

"Soup is just about ready," Catherine said. "Eat some and then _please_ go to bed."

He paused but finally nodded.

"Thank you," she said.

* * *

Catherine came upstairs to the bedroom after cleaning up in the kitchen to find Steve seemingly asleep and Cammie sitting on the floor close to the bed.

"I'm surprised you're not in the bed, Cammie," she said quietly.

Steve sniffed and, without opening his eyes, said, "She was. I told her I appreciated it, but I was saving that spot."

Catherine smiled and sat on the bed. She put a hand to his forehead.

"Not too warm. How's your head?"

"Hurts," he admitted and reached up to lightly grasp her hand on his head.

"Do you need anything?"

"Just you," he said quietly, his eyes still closed.

She smiled and gave his fingers a small squeeze. She brought their hands down to his chest.

Bending, she kissed his forehead and quietly said, "Okay, give me a few minutes. I'll be right back."

" 'Kay."

She had already locked up the house, so Catherine changed for bed and stepped into the bathroom briefly. When she emerged, she smiled softly to see that neither Steve nor Cammie had moved.

"Go to sleep, Cammie," she said. "I got the night shift."

Steve opened an eye finally and looked at Cammie.

"I don't think she's going anywhere," he said and put a hand on her head, rubbing slowly.

"No, but it was worth a shot," Catherine said as she crawled into bed beside him and settled on her back.

Steve turned toward her and slipped an arm around her waist, brushing his nose against her shoulder as he rested his head close. She ran her hand through his hair gently and kissed his forehead, then brought her hand down to lay it on his forearm.

Keeping her head turned toward him, she closed her eyes and quietly said, "Sleep, Steve. I'm here if you need anything."

* * *

The next morning Catherine stood at the end of the bed with her arms folded staring down at a recalcitrant Steve, who was sitting up in bed.

"Let me up," he said firmly.

"No," she returned, just as firmly.

He mirrored her posture as best he could from his seat, folding his arms. "I am not staying in this bed all day, Catherine. I refuse."

"Never thought I'd hear that from you."

He paused, and then nodded his approval. "Solid comeback."

"I owe you a few, don't I?" she said with a smile.

"Yeah, you were a little off your game the last couple days, Rollins," he said, starting to slide out of bed.

"And I guess chocolate sauce isn't antimicrobial after all. Stay in bed, Steve."

He sighed, pulling his feet back up under the covers. "Lunch," he said. "I'm getting up at lunch."

"Deal." She looked at the dog sitting beside the bed. "Cammie, make sure he stays there."

Cammie gave a soft woof. Steve shook his head and looked at both of them.

"It's mutiny," he muttered, but he slid down to lie on his back and pulled the covers up over his body.

Rolling her eyes slightly, Catherine chuckled as she left the bedroom.

* * *

An hour later, Catherine stood on the lanai talking on her phone.

"Oh, I'm quite sure the only reason he's still in bed is because we were already off today," she said.

"_You are undoubtedly right about that_," Danny replied. "_You guys need anything?_"

"No, we're pretty stocked up from your shopping trip last week. Thank you again for that." She smiled broadly. "Plus we've got Nonna's special delivery."

"_Did you make it?_"

"I did."

"_And?_"

"Fantastic. Of course. Even with his headache Steve thought so, too."

"_Did she include the note about serving it with crusty Italian bread, but only if you're feeling well?_"

"Yes, I thought that was so great. So Nonna."

"_So he's really in bed?_"

"He was. And I think Cammie would let me know if he got up," she added. "I'll go check on him in a few minutes, but we had a deal. He said he'd stay in bed until lunch. And he must have been feeling bad for him to agree to even that."

"_Well, tell him I take no pleasure in being right._"

"I believe you. Not sure if he will. In fact, I may wait to tell him you called."

"_Grouchy?_"

"Not too bad. Though the word 'mutiny' did come up."

Danny chuckled. "_All right, well, call me if you need anything. Even if it's just a break from Commander I-Never-Get-Sick_."

Catherine smiled and said, "I don't think that'll be necessary, but thanks, Danny."

* * *

Steve and Catherine entered the office Monday morning. Danny was waiting once again at the smart table.

"I'm fine," Steve said.

"I didn't say a word," Danny said, holding up his hands.

"Good." Steve paused and then folded his arms. "I just took it easy this weekend. It was nothing."

"I didn't ask," Danny said. His eyes darted quickly to Catherine before he said, "So how was that pastina?"

"Oh, that was really–" Steve stopped at Danny's smirk. "I mean, Cath only made it because Nonna sent the recipe. Not because I . . ." his voice faded and he grimaced. "You already knew."

"Oh yeah, I forget to tell you," Catherine said with a smile. "Danny called while you were asleep on Saturday."

"I wasn't asleep, I was . . . relaxing. With Cammie. She was tired."

Catherine scoffed. "Oh, that's right, our year old _puppy_ got tired playing with Esther on Friday. I forgot."

Steve sighed and motioned to Danny. "All right, go ahead. Get it out of your system. We're not gonna get anything done until you do."

"Get what out of my system?" Danny asked, failing to conceal his smirk.

"The 'I told you so.' "

"I can't say 'I told you so' until you actually admit it."

"Admit what?"

"Admit that you were sick."

"I–" Steve started. "I was a little . . ." he brushed a hand under his nose as he looked around the room.

Catherine rolled her eyes and shook her head. Danny threw his hands up and said, "Oh my God, you can't even say it, can you?!"

"I–"

"Hey guys," Kono said as she and Chin joined them. "How was your weekend?

"It was nothing, apparently," Danny said. "He's fine."

"I am fine," Steve insisted. "We're fine. Everyone's fine."

Danny started coughing suddenly and they all stopped to look at him.

His eyes widened and he groaned. "Oh God. I knew it."

Steve smirked and said, "Guess it's a good thing Nonna sent you pastina, too, huh?"

Danny glowered at him. "This time you're doing the shopping."

* * *

**Notes:** Hope you enjoyed this one because I have been talked into doing *one* more flu story. :-)

And if you've never read it, or even if you have, check out Mari's fantastic story POX!

_Looking for links to all the REAL McRoll stories in one place? Check out our tumblr page: mcrollintherealworld dot tumblr dot com_

_And you can still join the mailing list by sending us an email at realmcroll at yahoo dot com with Add me, please! in the subject line._


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